


Paparazzi

by cleopatraslibrary



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crushes, Fluff, Gen, Insecure Bucky Barnes, Insecure Tony Stark, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Tony Stark, Paparazzi, They Both Need Hugs and Get Hugs, or at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 04:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatraslibrary/pseuds/cleopatraslibrary
Summary: Based off of that one interview with Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, where the interviewer asks them, "Who's the most good looking Avenger?" and Sebastian says, with no hesitation, "Iron Man."--Bucky hates the paparazzi. All they do is cause trouble.





	Paparazzi

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Marvel or these characters. I'm merely borrowing them for entertainment purposes.
> 
> I meant for this to be a short drabble, but here we are. 6k and three months later. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Bucky didn’t have a lot of complaints about his new status as ‘Avenger’. How could he? It was absolutely incredible. Good food, good people. A newly restored mind, thanks to the brilliant Tony Stark, Helen Cho and quite a few psychologists. And with that newly restored mind, clearance to actually earn his title as ‘Avenger’. It was all fine and dandy.

That was until, he had his first experience with the press. 

More specifically, the paparazzi. 

(The public had been wary of James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, at first. Wary, distrustful, scared. Once he was able to figure out why, remembered why, he didn’t blame ‘em. Then, Tony -- _Stark_, then -- organized a press conference less than an hour after he was declared pardoned of all crimes he committed while brainwashed, told him to crank up his ol’ “Bucky Barnes charm that had his past dames fainting”, and presented him to the world as an old, rusty penny they were able to polish up and make sparkle.

They ate up his story like a kitten lickin’ cream.)

The paps followed the Avengers upstate, sometimes scouting in the woods. Those times were a big no-no; typically, Bucky or Natalia would scent them out and send them back to the ratholes they crawled from. 

(A big, bold headline would pop up the next day, demanding to know, “EX-HYDRA OPERATIVE TRULY EX?” Nobody paid them much mind, as the Avengers PR would point out, “Just because our heroes are in view of the public doesn’t mean they don't have the right to privacy in their own home.” Those headlines were swept under the rug.)

Other times, the paps used drones. An alarming amount of times, they’d seen drones hovering by the windows of the Compound.

(Those tended to get blown up real quick, and little to no information was actually gathered from them.) 

Asides from that, though, it was relatively quiet upstate; usually, the only time the paps could get a good picture or two of Bucky’s teammates was when they were cordially invited into the vestibule. 

The Tower, though. That was a different story. 

Bucky liked the Tower better, oddly. He enjoyed the city, even as hectic and loud and chaotic as it was. In most ways, New York City was nothing like it used to be, and that was one of the reasons Bucky loved it. It was bustling, beautiful, boisterous. _Alive_. Even if he couldn’t hear the chatter of the streets from his vantage point (and wasn’t that a splendor, with his super-hearing), he knew that it was occupied and constantly in motion.

Plus, he felt more connected. Could actually go and buy a good Italian sub in a deli on a city corner, instead of either cooking himself or ordering from a food joint that was in the same building as he was. He wasn’t a fan of that. 

(Even though there was a floor specifically designated for food joints in the Tower. _Semantics_.)

Of course, if he went to said deli, it’d be all over the tabloids, as if people care about how little oil he likes on his submarines. Ugh.

The Tower did have the added bonus that Tony was spent a lot of his time there. So, that was a thing. 

Well.

Not really. 

It was just that, ah. Bucky had a little, itsy bitsy, tiny, maybe even non-existent, well dubiously non-existent, or definitely existent, small, or actually a fairly medium-sized, or, well, shit, who was Bucky kidding, a huge, pathetically large, overbearing, absolutely all encompassing crush on Tony Stark.

A crush that could in no way be reciprocated. 

But hey, Bucky could dig masochism every once in a while, or every week and every day and every hour and minute or so. 

So what if he enjoyed spending time alone in the Tower with Tony? So what if he enjoyed making that fuckin’ gorgeous man smile and laugh? So what if he sometimes envisioned them living in the same quarters together? Panting into each others mouth and clinging to each other like velcro? Or, more dangerously, waking up together the next morning, their breaths mingling and eyes shining and sweet nothings murmured into the slowly dawning room?

Well. 

The paps weren’t too awful to deal with, if he could steal these moments with Tony. 

\--

For once, there were only a couple of people waiting in line at the deli. He couldn’t quite keep the tension out of his shoulders, but three customers -- two females, one male, hands visible -- and two employees -- female handling a hoagie roll, male exchanging coins in the cash register -- were hardly anything compared to the usual bustle of this particular bodega. They had a good reputation and deserved it.

When Bucky stepped up to order, he gave the fema-- oh, it’s Stacey, she colored her hair -- he gave Stacey a small smile. “Hey, Stace.”

“Soldier!” she greeted enthusiastically. “How goes it? You want your usual?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that and a 12 inch tuna salad sub, with lettuce, little bitta mayo, salt, pepper, and extra American cheese.”

“Ooh, new order. Cap in town? Or maybe the Widow?”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Nah, this is for the esteemed Tony Stark.”

“The esteemed… Tony… Stark,” she murmured, as she prepared his order. Someone was looking at him, somewhere to the left of him, but no one had entered the building. Maybe one of the other customers. “Gotta say, Soldier, you’ve never quite esteemed your other teammates as high, even Cap.”

“Oh yeah? How’dya figure?” Stace was like that a lot. Tried to figure out their group dynamics whenever he ordered more than his usual. It was fun, really. Made him feel like he actually had a connection, maybe even a friend, on the outside.

“Well,” she said, dropping her tone conspiringly. “Every time you order for other people, you always double check your phone to make sure you got the order right. Whenever you say it’s for Tony S., it comes right off the top of your head. Usually, whenever you order ya extras, it’s either just for you and Tony S., or it’s for at least three others, excludin’ yourself.” She looked smug and held out her hand for her payment.

For a second, Bucky stopped breathing. She figured it out.

He looked at her, then. Studied her. She had an eyebrow cocked up, a playful smile on her face, and a twinkle in her eye. She was teasing, sure, but this seemed to be in good fun. He gave a small grin in return and her’s broadened.

He handed her a twenty. “Well, Ms. Know-It-All,” he shot back, “‘m afraid you overlooked some pertinent information in what you just told me. If it’s just Tony and me, I’d be more likely to remember his order anyway. It makes sense that I’d want to grab a glance at my phone to make sure I get my group what they actually want.”

She narrowed her eyes and he blinked innocently. She held out the takeout bag. “Fine, you win this round.” Bucky grabbed it, smiling triumphantly. “Come back soon!”

He opened the door, shouting back, “You know it!” when there was a bright flash on his right side. He widened his eyes and held up an arm instinctively, before realizing--

It’s just the fuckin’ paps. He almost audibly groaned when they started asking questions. He held back his scowl, though; they -- five females, seven males, most hands on cameras, others with phones, none tucked into pockets, no weapons seen -- were blocking his path. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” he said, charitably. They didn’t budge. He sighed. He sized them all up, before looking directly at a short young lady holding a phone. She kind of reminded him of Natalia, all soft curves and fiery hair. “I’ll give you three questions, and that’s all, if you let me through with no issue.”

“Deal!” she exclaimed. Then, “Y’all heard the man, you can all get the hell outta here. What direction are ya headed?” she asked him. He pointed right. “Great, I’ll walk with you for those three questions then I’m gone. Good?” She beckoned him forward and glared at the other paps. “Y’all heard me before. Find another Avenger.”

He didn’t bother looking through the rest of the crowd as he walked through. It wasn’t as noisy, once the barrier was broken, it seemed.

He startled when she started talking. “You know, Mr. Barnes, it’s a real privilege talkin’ to ya. It gets around quick when a person don't like the… media attention.” He snorted and took her in. “Why is that?”

Bucky raised a brow. “You really want to know?”

“I really want to know, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well, y’all don't respect my privacy, for one. For some odd reason, it seems like I’m always getting my picture taken.”

“Mr. Barnes, I know this isn’t a personal attack, but this is my job. And the people want to know more about you. Especially _ because _ you’re so camera shy.”

Inwardly, he scoffed, but didn’t respond to what she said. “One,” he said instead. He eyed the Tower in the distance; only six more blocks. He may have to make a detour to make sure she doesn’t follow him.

The woman tilted her camera. “Alright. There’s some speculation that the UN wants to have a committee overseeing everything the Avengers do, as well as approving and disapproving missions. Do you believe there should be more oversight or do you think the Avengers should stay a private organization?”

Bucky blinked. Replayed the question a few times in his head, before he understood exactly what she was asking. “You mean, having someone to report to in the end of the day?” 

Sounded like Handlers.

He shook away the thought; no, it wouldn’t be anything like Hydra.

(But he knew how easily those types of organizations can be infiltrated.)

Her mouth tightened as she thought. “A bit. As I said before, it’s only speculation at the moment, but I know there are some people who want the Avengers to be held accountable.”

He couldn’t exactly disagree with accountability. “Mhm. It’s certainly an interestin’ proposition. I think it’s a good idea, as long as they don't try to control us, or give us their own missions. Then, what makes them any better than Zola? Or Malstov, or Pierce?” 

She blinked rapidly, before conceding, “Alright. Third question: Who’s the sexiest Avenger?”

It was such a drastic shift in conversation that Bucky couldn’t help it when he replied with a rapid fire: “Iron Man.”

He didn’t register what he’d said, before she smirked and said, “That’ll be all, Mr. Barnes! Thank you!” Then, once it sunk in, she was already crossing the street and heading in the opposite direction.

Bucky closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Exhaled through his mouth. Inhaled. Exhaled.

Fuck.

He hated the goddamn paps.

\--

Fuck, you know what he hated more than the goddamn paps?

That accountability shit he was just yammerin’ on about. 

Now he had to go the Avengers PR team, which means he has to go to Ms. Potts first, which also means he has to go to Tony first. Because as much as he respects and appreciates everything she has managed to do for him, that doesn’t make her any less terrifying. Even to the ghost story Winter Soldier.

Hence, Tony must be called to act as protector and filter. 

But that means he’s going to find out what he said.

But if it’s in the papers, then he’s going to figure it out anyway, right?

Not necessarily! It depends on who that woman was working for.

And who was that?

Bucky stared blankly ahead, as the elevator doors opened on the penthouse floor. He had no fucking clue. Who. She. Worked. For.

“Goddamn, am I losin’ it in the head?”

Bucky startled as Tony quipped, “That entirely depends on your definition of ‘losing it’,” from farther inside the room. He was sitting at one of the couches with three holograms opened up around him, messing with schematics of some sort. Bucky walked in on autopilot as he watched Tony’s thin fingers maneuver the graphics with ease. His gaze didn’t break away from his work as he continued. “Are you pissed off at another ogle of paps or are you thinking of ogling their corpses on snow covered ground? There is, quite, the distinction.”

Bucky snorted and fell into a chair opposite, throwing Tony’s sandwich onto the open space next to him on the couch. Then he sobered. _Ah, fuck it_. “Actually, uh. I’m gonna need to, ah.” He scratched the back of head. “I’m gonna need to talk to PR.”

Tony continued to work. “Hm?”

Bucky unwrapped his sandwich, before glancing back up. At least now he had something in his hands. And a good reason not to talk. “I’m gonna need to talk to PR.” He shoved one of the halves into his mouth.

Tony continued to work. “Say again?”

Bucky chewed loudly, studying him. His eyes were still focused on the screen, with his fingers shifting numbers around, and his lips twitching, and--

“You fucker,” he said, but it actually sounded a lot like “Yooufh vuhhka” but Tony understood well enough and his blase facade cracked as he gave a small chuckle.

“Now, what happened to the impenetrable Winter Soldier resting bitch face? I thought that was your usual route nowadays.” He swiped the holograms to the side and grabbed his sandwich, unwrapping it carelessly.

Bucky swallowed and looked askance. Ugh. “Well, ‘ere was a whole murder of ‘em, and I didn’t feel like pushin’ through the crowd, y’know?” Tony nodded in his peripheral. He could imagine the slight frown and a glazing of sympathy in his eye, before Tony willed away his expression. “So I chose the smallest and least threatenin’ one who happened to look a lot like Nat, so not my best judgement, but anyway, I gave ‘er three questions and. They were… questions.” He took another bite and looked at Tony from under his eyelids.

“What kind of questions were they? Super invasive and weirdly personal? Political? Traumatic?” Tony asked, before pulling out his sandwich and digging in. He hummed sensually as he bit into it and his eyes fluttered shut. “Oh, God, this is amazing,” he added.

Traumatic. _Definitely_ traumatic. Bucky slowed his chew as he stared at the man in front of him, who seemed to become utterly debauched by a piece of fucking bread, slab of tuna, and slices of cheese. He looked up, as if praying to be struck down, but realized before he might actually get struck by lightning if Thor was on the planet. Instead, he swallowed --_ when did his mouth get so dry?_ \-- and answered. “Uh, personal and political.” And _so fucking traumatic._

Tony gave a twisted smile and said, “Alright. Hey, FRIDAY? Baby girl?” He patted his front pockets.

There was a pause and a chirpy, “Yes, boss?” filtered throughout the room as one of the holographic sets of schematics lit up. Tony dug into one of his pockets and pulled out his phone.

“Can you call Pep for me?”

There was another pause, before a confident sounding, “Yes, boss,” came through and a call screen popped up. Bucky finished off his Italian and wiped his hands on his jeans as he stood up and got a closer look at FRIDAY. 

“Hey there, you’re really growin’ big,” he said. And she was -- when Tony had introduced her a few weeks ago, her soft, blue hologram had only been about the size of a basketball. She’s much bigger now, with tons of numbers and different shades of blue running throughout her round manifestation.

The AI didn’t take his comment as a compliment. There was a sudden air around them that told Bucky she would have sniffed delicately if she could as she replied, “I’m not growing, Mr. Barnes. I’m evolving.”

Tony didn’t roll his eyes, but he certainly looked like he wanted to. Before he could say anything, though, an irate voice picked up the phone. “Tony, I swear to God, you better not be running on seventy hours of sleep right now, I have a ten minute break before my next meeting, and--”

“Pep. The love of my life, the mother of my child--” Bucky snorted.

“We did not conceive a child, Tony, so you better have a good reason for calling me--”

“Ms. Potts,” Bucky greeted formally.

She immediately stopped her tirade. “Mr. Barnes! I apologize, I wasn’t aware you were there. I’m assuming Tony called on your behalf. What can I do for you?”

“Would it be possible for you to contact the Avenger PR team for me? I talked to a journalist and answered a political question that shouldn’t get me in trouble, but probably will anyway.”

Tony snorted and Bucky glared as threateningly as he could. Which wasn’t a lot, to be fair.

“Of course. What was it about?”

“The accountability of the Avengers? She said there were rumors about there bein’ a UN committee overseeing the Avengers and all that.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, presumably writing down what he said, and then asked, “Was there anything else?”

He paused deliberately, so as not to sound guilty, cursing himself when he felt the tips of his ears heat. “No, ma’am. Nothing more important than that.”

Bucky refused to look away from the holographic screen, but he could still see in his peripheral Tony’s look of devastatingly beautiful glee. Oh, boy.

“Alright, Mr. Barnes. I’ll notify them immediately. We’ll speak soon.”

“Sounds good. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Tony ended the call and grinned devilishly. “Ooh, what else did they get out of you, Bucky Bear? Any good Avengers gossip gonna be spread in the next _New York Post_?”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, fighting to keep his embarrassment off his face. “None. Just the usual Winter Soldier ‘stay away from me’.”

Tony pouted dramatically, before focusing his attention back on his screens “Ugh, boring. You’re no fun.”

“Someone has to be mature,” he quipped, and laughed when Tony threw the rest of his sandwich at his head. He caught it easily and said, “See what I mean?”

“If I had another sandwich, I’d throw that one, too.”

“Sure, doll.”

\--

Bucky’s phone vibrated against his side table, startling him awake. He blinked groggily at it, testing how easily he’d be able to fall back to sleep, before groaning into his pillow, realizing he wouldn’t be able to.

Annoyed, he grabbed it and checked his messages.

**[06:01] From: the Widow**

**The sexiest Avenger is Tony? Really?**

Ohh, fuck.

Deny, deny, deny!

**[06:03] To: the Widow**

**no???**

**[06:03] To: the Widow**

**why would u say that**

**[06:04] From: the Widow**

_ **see message attachment** _

**[06:04] From: the Widow**

**Want to rephrase that? :)**

That smiley face was menacing.

He did not want to rephrase that.

He did not want to see the message attachment. 

He clicked anyway.

Immediately, his own face lit up on the screen, frowning deeply at the person holding the camera. He was just finishing his spiel about accountability when she asked, clearly nervous, but excited, _“Third question: Who’s the sexiest Avenger?”_

His face had twisted in clear confusion, as he answered, “_Iron Man_,” with zero hesitation. Then, his eyes widened comically and he flushed, he did not remember blushing that furiously, what the hell, and the video cut off.

He breathed in.

Replayed.

Breathed out.

Replayed.

Fuck.

**[06:11] To: the Widow**

**not rly**

**[06:12] From: the Widow**

**Aww, does someone have a crush on the resident genius?**

Bucky left her on ‘read’ and collapsed back onto his bed.

He was going to the Compound today for Steve’s mandatory training exercises. Now, he knew everyone upstate was going to know.

Fuck.

\--

Tony didn’t seem to think anything was amiss when he wandered up to the Tower’s kitchen, brewing a new canister of coffee. Bucky watched him warily, but he looked just as unaffected, if tired and like a ‘motivated’ scientist as usual.

“‘Sup, Tasty Freeze,” he greeted, his fingers drumming against the countertop in an odd pattern.

He didn’t seem to be avoiding Bucky, or sneaking glances, so maybe he didn’t see the rags. “Mornin’, Tony. You comin’ to the Compound today?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, and Bucky tried not to deflate when he said it. “Cap wants to go a couple rounds with the suit, try to change up my fighting style a bit, then do some usual basic, one on one training. He said he needed an actual opponent to spar with.”

Bucky blinked at him, before he noticed Tony’s eyebrows waggling, then rolled his eyes. “Don't force me to tell Natalia you said that.”

Tony gasped dramatically, then pointed a finger. “You wouldn’t betray me like that!”

(_I would never betray you_, his mind whispered.)

Instead of that sappy bullshit, he simply replied with a smirk, a wink and a, “You never know, doll.”

Tony stared at him, before turning abruptly and pulling out the coffee canister. 

Bucky listened to his mug clanging against the table, and the smooth pouring sound of coffee. He glanced up and watched as Tony took a sip, his eyes closing as he hummed appreciatively.

He looked away.

“So, what time’re we leavin’?” he asked to fill the silence. It wasn’t like him.

“Well, I have a project I have to work on for a little bit, then Pep is coming over to discuss a prototype I have, so I’m probably leaving around two. You can clock out now, soldier. I won’t keep you.”

_Good_, he told himself. _Then I can talk with the others first so they don't try to push any buttons._

That didn’t stop the hollow feeling in his stomach or the insecurity fluttering beneath his eyes as he agreed, “Alright. See you up there.”

\--

Everyone had heard about it. 

It was clear in the way they were all staring at him as they waited for Steve to arrive. Staring and smirking. Staring and smirking and not saying a damn thing.

“A’ight, out with it, you assholes,” he grumbled.

Natalia, who looked like a cat who caught a canary, said, “Let’s spar.”

And who was Bucky to disagree?

They walked over to the mats and, without a countdown, Natalia sprung herself at Bucky, grinning madly. She went for his legs and he jumped, balancing his weight and then swinging his arm around to try to catch her in the ribs.

“When did this happen, soldier?” she asked coyly, dodging easily and counteracting his attack of brute strength with agility. 

“None o’ your business, itsy-bitsy,” he replied, abruptly switching directions so that they’d hopefully collide. She’d be the one to fall.

“Aw, c’mon now, have a little -- spirit!” she exclaimed, leaping and rolling over his back, maneuvering away from his attack. “Was it during a maintenance visit?” She asked, sliding a leg underneath him. 

Bucky stumbled and Clint whooped in the background. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, grabbing her wrist in a quiet standstill.

She searched his eyes, before smirking. “_Nauchi menya tantsevat', soldat_.”

He gave her a secret grin and whispered in her ear, “_Nyet_,” before flipping her onto her back. Wilson counted down in the background, but he knew Natalia wasn’t going to get back up.

“Aw, Tash, you could have kicked his ass!”

“No, I’m more interested in hearing him wax poetry about Tony’s big, beautiful brown eyes,” she quipped. 

He rolled his own and scoffed, before he sobered. “Look, he’s coming later. I don't want any of y’all to mention it.” Natalia and Clint opened their mouths to interrupt, but he continued. “There is no way he could ever reciprocate. He’s too good for me; I don't deserve him. But even moreso, he doesn’t deserve me. All of the innocent deaths caused by,” he swallowed the despair in his throat. “Caused by my hands.” Even free of the triggers, he still had night terrors of each of his victims. He still had flashbacks and regressions and failings. He still suffered. “I won’t pursue it, and if I’m lucky, I won’t ever have to talk to him about it.”

Wilson sighed and glared at the two spies. “Yeah, we understand, dude. We won’t mention it to Stark if you don't want us to.”

“Thank you.” He nodded his head forward. He wondered what was taking Steve so long. “C’mon, let’s spar, Wilson. Last time we fought, you sucked pretty bad.”

“Oh, you’re so on, you bastard.”

He let the easy sparring draw his attention away from his heartbreak and was so enraptured by his own woes he didn’t notice the footsteps walking rapidly down the hall, away from the gymnasium.

\--

The team kept their word, but only because Tony didn’t show up.

Bucky gnawed the inside of his lip the entire training session, and on more than one occasion, let his thoughts get in the way of his instincts.

So he wasn’t all that surprised when Steve called him over after he disbanded the session.

“What’s on your mind, Buck?” he asked, giving him a small grin. “‘s been awhile since you’ve come to visit.”

“Worried about Tony,” he admitted, sitting down heavily on the floor. He had told Steve about his crush on the genius as soon as he realized it, and told him his reasons for not pursuing it. He understood, but said to rethink it. Bucky hasn’t.

“He was here before,” Steve said and Bucky looked up sharply from where the spot he’d been glaring into the floor.

“Did you talk to him?”

He shook his head. “He just walked right past me with this twisted expression on his face. Didn’t acknowledge me when he walked past or anything. Seemed like he was in a hurry.” Steve averted his eyes and Bucky signaled for him to continue. When he didn’t, he clicked his tongue and Steve said, “Fine. I followed him out and watched as he got into the suit. His heartbeat was way up, and I didn’t want to startle him further.”

The cold realization hit him like a freight train.

(_Fucking trains._)

“He must’ve saw the headline. He must have heard what I said in the training room.”

“You weren’t badmouthing him, were you?”

“Of course not!” he exclaimed, a little offended.

Steve winced. “Sorry. But was there anything he could misinterpret in what you were saying?”

Bucky shrugged helplessly. “I don't know -- I don't think so. But he doesn’t even like me, Stevie, there’s no reason for him to have been upset --”

Steve put up and hand and Bucky stopped talking.

“Did you know Tony wanted to sell the Tower?”

“What? Why?” he asked, confused and a little hurt. They spent a lot of time together there. Did Bucky--

“Listen to my whole meaning, before you get some wild ideas. He’d been wanting to sell it for awhile, but then had stopped all those plans after you moved in. I asked him about it and told me he’d ‘regained a new appreciation for the skyline,’” he said in air quotes. 

“Don't you fuckin’ bullshit me, Rogers,” Bucky said, trying to squash the inkling of hope Steve gave him.

“Go back to the Tower. Talk to him. Tell me about it later.”

“Explicitly?” he joked and Stevie’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“You two deserve each other; get out of my gym.”

\--

When Bucky got to the Tower, he asked FRIDAY where Tony was, as he got into the elevator.

“Boss is currently in lock down mode in the lab.”

“When did he go in lock down mode?” he asked, a little bewildered.

“As soon as he got back, at 1:40 p.m.”

He looked up in confusion, before he said, “Huh. Alright. Uh, send me to the penthouse? I’ll make some food to bring to him.” 

The doors closed and Bucky tried not to think about why it was in lock down.

\--

“Could you let him know there’s food waiting outside of the lab for him?”

“Of course, Sgt. Barnes.”

\--

“How’d the talk go?” Steve asked on the line.

“We haven’t, yet,” Bucky replied.

“What, why not?”

“He’s in lock down.”

“Maybe he’s working on an important project.”

“Maybe,” Bucky agreed dejectedly.

\--

“Hey, FRIDAY.”

“Yes, Sgt. Barnes?”

“What’s one of Tony’s favorite dishes?”

A different AI spoke in a baritone British accent. “Sir enjoys his mother’s recipe of Roberto Ravioli.”

A sick feeling churned in Bucky’s stomach. “Do you have the recipe?”

“Yes. Would you like me to project it for you?”

“Please.”

\--

“FRI, could you tell him there’s food for him in the hall again?”

“Of course, Sgt. Barnes.”

\--

“Read _Harry Potter_ while you wait,” Natalia suggested.

“Why?”

“First, it’s a wonderful distraction. Second, it’s for children, so you’d be able to read it easily--” Bucky snorted, “--third, because he’s isolating himself, so he won’t be out for another day at least.” That sobered him up.

“Did you realize he heard me?”

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Oh. I just-- I thought maybe…” 

“No, I just know him, soldier. You can’t force your way into his lab, or his heart, as disgusting as that sentiment is. His AIs are loyal to him, as much as they may snark at him, and they won’t let you in. But keep giving him food. He’ll come out eventually.”

\--

Bucky started to head out towards his favorite deli when he heard the click of a camera and then the sudden flash.

“Mr. Barnes, do you have time for a questi--”

He grabbed the camera and crushed it with his metal hand. “Does it look like I have time?” he asked with a nasty smile, before turning around and going back into the Tower.

Fucking paparazzi.

\--

It’s hour eighty when the elevator door opened and Bucky watched Tony stumble onto the penthouse floor. He inhaled sharply from where he was sitting on a couch.

He looked… bad.

The bags under his eyes were prominent and resembled bruises, and his usually warm skin tone was pale, and sickly, reminding Bucky of a pre-serum Steve for a second. His whole demeanor was off and Bucky got up, hurrying towards the other man. He reached out to steady him.

“Tony, you alright?” he asked quietly.

He seemed to be having trouble focusing and when he finally looked up and recognized him, Tony smiled brightly, before it twisted and soured. “Bucky?”

He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Yeah, do-- yeah, who else would it be?”

“Didn’t… thought you’d stay upstate when you messed up your response.”

Huh?

Carefully, he stepped closer, holding out an arm for Tony to grasp onto.

He almost fell into it, embracing Bucky.

“M’st’ve messed up your response,” Tony mumbled into his chest. “Can’t be with me. Too much innocent blood caused by my weapons.” 

Oh fuck, Tony had heard him talking to the others. Not only had he heard, he’d _mis_heard. 

He wanted to ask him if he liked him, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not when he was in this state of mind. He couldn’t help but hope.

“For a hallucination, you’re startlingly warm,” he added.

Bucky bit his lip as he looked down at Tony, suddenly incredibly sad. “C’mon doll, let’s get you to bed. I’ll whip you something to eat later.”

Bucky scooped him up, holding him bridal style, and he was almost positive he fell asleep immediately. The lights dimmed accordingly and Bucky carried him to his room.

\--

Bucky struggled to pull the comforter up without jostling Tony too much, but he managed, laying him down on the white sheets carefully. He went and pulled off his shoes, but didn’t bother to take off anything else. 

It wasn’t his place.

He swallowed down a sigh and pulled the blanket up over Tony’s chest. He was so distracted in his melancholy that he didn’t register the feather-light touch on his wrist.

He glanced down to see weary brown eyes looking at him. “Stay,” Tony murmured.

It wasn’t a demand or a challenge; just a simple request by a man who probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

It was that thought that kept him from climbing under the covers; instead, he stepped out of his slippers and walked around the bed, and scooched onto the mattress, on top of the comforter, sitting criss-cross.

“Go to sleep, doll. I’ll protect you,” he promised. His traitorous fingers itched to run themselves through his hair.

Tony had already fallen asleep.

\--

Bucky didn’t move, keeping guard the entire night. His senses were dialed up to eleven, because of how tense he was and he didn’t miss the slight intake of breath next to him, or the way Tony’s heart rate sped as he woke up.

He didn’t intrude upon the silence, however. It was comfortable and Tony didn’t seem too jittery, yet.

The sun began to rise, kissing the horizon in the distant skyline. 

He realized he felt completely content and peaceful, for the first time in a long time.

“‘Morning, Bucky,” Tony said after a few minutes. His voice was quiet. He shifted onto his side, looking up at Bucky from where his head was pillowed.

“‘Mornin’, doll.” He smiled softly at him. “How’d you sleep?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Good. Really, really good. Surprisingly good. You wouldn’t have, I dunno, happened to bring me to bed last night, would you have?”

Bucky blinked in surprise. “I did. I hope you don't mind -- you seemed pretty worn down.”

He swallowed. “I-- I was. Listen, Bucky,” he suddenly said, lowering his gaze. “You don't have to beat around the bush. I saw the headline and it’s okay. You-- you probably just misspoke and I totally understand that we make mistakes, I mean, just look at me--”

Carefully, oh so carefully, Bucky reached over with his flesh hand and tipped Tony’s head upwards from underneath his chin. “Tony, I am looking at you. I didn’t misspeak. I do think, er.” He knew he started blushing, but tackled through it anyway. “I do think you’re the sexiest Avenger. But it isn’t just your body, it’s your mind and your wit, and your compassion. You are devastatingly brilliant.” He moved his fingers away from his chin and wanted to avert his eyes, but he didn’t. 

Instead, he watched as Tony floundered for a moment. “But-- what about in the gym--?”

“You misheard me, or left before I was finished talking. Does your AI have access to the Compound?”

“JARVIS does.”

“JARVIS, can you pull up the transcript of the conversation Natalia, Clint, Wilson, and I had in the gym?”

“Certainly, Sgt. Barnes.”

A holographic screen popped up next to the and Tony reached over, maneuvering it so he could read it in his spot. He audibly groaned.

“So, are you telling me, we could have been having a steamy love affair in this Tower this whole time?” he asked and Bucky snorted, his cheeks heating further. “Oh my Tesla, you’ve turned into a tomato.”

Bucky grumbled under his breath, but couldn’t contain his smile. “We have to talk a little bit more than that, you know. This isn’t just figured out.”

Tony started pulling on the hem of his t-shirt however. “I know, but I want more sleep, so get under these covers and let’s snuggle. Then we’ll have our super mature grown up talk about how our declarations of love shouldn’t be in the paper.”

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly and slipped under the blanket. Tony wrapped around him like an octopus, and he closed his eyes, thinking, I could get used to this.

\--

“Sgt. Barnes, are you romantically involved with Iron Man?”

“No,” Tony’s voice snottily replied. “He’s having a torrid love affair with me, Tony Stark!”

Bucky didn't bother hiding his eye roll, as the cameras flashed and the wolf-whistling began.

**Author's Note:**

> Nauchi menya tantsevat', soldat: Teach me to dance, Soldier  
Nyet: No  
*Sorry if this is incorrect! I used Google Translate
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed!!!!! This went in a completely different direction than I was originally planning but I love how it turned out. Please leave me kudos and feedback, I really appreciate it! Come say hi on [ Tumblr](https://cleopatraslibrary.tumblr.com/), too! I'd love to say hey :)
> 
> Hope you have a good day/night/morrning, my loves! 
> 
> Much love, Lexi


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